The Holly Wreath and The Wee Folk

At about this time, as we close in on the last of autumn days, Old Woman Solstice has finished her Holly Wreath. The Wreath is bursting with lush red berries contrasted by the pointy dark green leaves. She hangs it on the door surrounding the glass light and by doing so let’s the Wee Forest Folk they are invited into her home for a bit of warmth and cheer. 

The Holly Wreath sings Yuletide songs and calls each one of them by name. 

Zanu…Twilah…Finnen…Malkei…Pookie…Rhys…Niamh…Oisin…Ghillie…Arroka…Elly...and there's more...

She gathers them into her circlet of ruby and emerald like the cardinal her chicks and the Wee Folk slip through the glass without a knock or open door. 

Most of the forest folk come dressed in their very best finery, sporting Christmas red, white and green, scented with fir and spruce.  But for all their pomp and style, they often do not dress warm enough to last through the frigid weather of winter. Where it not for the welcoming hearth of Old Solstice’s stone cottage, most of the Good Folk would find themselves stiff and lifeless within a few hours like ornaments hung on a tree.

They wait for the Old Woman to hang her Holly Wreath with great anticipation for they know that once it adorns the round oak door of her cottage, Old Solstice will provide hot mulled cider and mead, toadstools drenched drenched in fairie sauce,  and loads of cookies ~ 

Spritzy Stars and Coconut Fingers…

Rosenmunnars and Pepparkakors…

Angel Crips and Almond Kisses…

Chocolate Bombs and Oatmeal Lacies… 

All delicious and plentiful, enough to last them till Spring. But their favorite is a plain brown Drommar, the Dream Cookie. 

As the Holly Wreath mysteriously continues to provide merriment, the Wee Folk dance and shimmy into the night. Lacking any sense of shame or propriety, they have their fill of all and any provisions Old Solstice serves till their bellies puff and bloat like tiny balloons. Yet having several compartments in their wee stomachs, always have a little room left for the best cookie of all. Drommars made of cardamon and rich brown butter melt in their mouths and are saved for last as it makes them heavy with sleep. And then they are off to the land of fae dreams to await the Spring and the cottage is filled with Dream Magic.

Old Woman Solstice finds the Wee Folk extremely easy to please when it comes to food and libations. But putting them up for the Winter is another story, and as they are wont to fall asleep where ever they are, Old Solstice must look around every corner and dark recess of the cottage and scoop them up one by one. She fills all nooks and crannies, cups and thimbles, sachets and pill boxes with the Forest Folk. Yet for all her care, come the morn she’s liable to find some curled up in her slippers. 

But once the Wee Forest Folk are all tucked away for the season, the Holly Wreath breathes a sigh of contentment and slips into wintry silence.